Delivered on Lord's-day Morning, August 13th, 1871, by
C. H. SPURGEON,
At the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington
"Where the birds make their nests: as for the stork, the fir trees are
her house. The high hills are a refuge for the wild goats, and the
rooks for the conies."–Psalm 104:17-18.
THIS PSALM IS ALL through a song of nature, the adoration of God in the
great outward temple of the universe. Some in these modern times have
thought it to be a mark of high spirituality never to observe nature;
and I remember sorrowfully reading the expressions of a godly person,
who, in sailing down one of the most famous rivers in the world, closed
his eyes, lest the picturesque beauties of the scene should divert his
mind from scriptural topics. This may be regarded by some as profound
spirituality; to me it seems to savor of absurdity. There may be
persons who think they have grown in grace when they have attained to
this; it seems to me that they are growing out of their senses. To
despise the creating work of God, what is it but, in a measure, to
despise God himself? "Whoso mocketh the poor despiseth his Maker." To
despise the Maker, then, is evidently a sin; to think little of God
under the aspect of the Creator is a crime. We should none of us think
it a great honor to ourselves if our friends considered our productions
to be unworthy of admiration, and rather injurious to their minds than
improving. If when they passed our workmanship they turned their eyes
away, lest they should suffer injury by looking at it, we should not
regard them as very respectful to ourselves; surely the despising of
that which is made is somewhat akin to the despising of the Maker
himself. David tells us that "The Lord shall rejoice in his works." If
he rejoices in what he has made, shall not those who have communion
with him rejoice in his works also? "The works of the Lord are great,
sought out of them that have pleasure therein." Despise not the work,
lest thou despise the worker.
This prejudice against the beauties of the material universe reminds me
of the lingering love to Judaism, which acted like a spell upon Peter
of old. When the sheet knit at the four corners descended before him,
and the voice said, "Rise, Peter; kill, and eat," he replied that he
had not eaten anything that was common or unclean. He needed that the
voice should speak to him from heaven again and again before he would
fully learn the lesson, "What God hath cleansed that call not thou
common." The Jew thinks this and that unclean, though Christ has
cleansed it; and certain Christians appear to regard nature as unclean.
The birds of the air, and the fish of the sea, the glorious sunrise and
sunset, the snow-clad Alps, the ancient forests, the mysterious
glaciers, the boundless ocean, God hath cleansed them: call them not
common. Here on this earth is Calvary where the Savior died, and by his
sacrifice, offered not within walls and roofs, he made this outer world
a temple wherein everything doth speak of God's glory. If thou be
unclean, all things will be unclean to thee; but if thou hast washed
thy robe and made it white in the blood of the Lamb, and if the Holy
Spirit hath overshadowed thee, then this world is but a nether heaven;
it is but the lower chamber of which the upper story glows with the
full splendor of God, where angels see him face to face, and this lower
story is not without glory, for in the person of Christ Jesus we have
seen God, and have communion and fellowship with him even now.
It appears to me that those who would forbear the study of nature, or
shun the observation of its beauties, are conscious of the weakness of
their own spirituality. When the hermits and monks shut themselves out
from the temptations of life, foolish persons said, "These are strong
in grace." Not so, they were so weak in grace that they were afraid to
have their graces tried. They ran away from the battle like the cowards
they were, and shut themselves up because they knew their swords were
not of the true Jerusalem metal, and they were not men who could resist
valiantly. Monasticism was the confession of a weakness which they
endeavored to cover with the vain show of humility, and the presence of
superior sanctity. If my graces are strong, I can look upon the outward
world, and draw forth its good without feeling its evil, if evil there
be; but if my religion is mainly fictitious, then hypocrisy dictates to
me the affectation of unusual spirituality, or at any rate I have not
grace enough to rise from a contemplation of the works of God to a
nearer fellowship with God himself. It cannot be that nature of itself
debases me, or diverts me from God; I ought to suspect a deficiency in
my self when I find that the Creator's handiworks have not a good
effect upon my soul.
Moreover, rest assured brethren, that he who wrote the Bible, the
second and clearest revelation of his divine mind, wrote also the first
book, the book of nature; and who are we that we should derogate from
the worth of the first because we esteem the second. Milton's "Paradise
Regained" is certainly inferior to his "Paradise Lost," but the Eternal
God has no inferior productions, all his works are master-pieces. There
is no quarrel between nature and revelation, fools only think so: to
wise men the one illustrates and establishes the other. Walking in the
fields at eventide, as Isaac did, I see in the ripening harvest the
same God of whom I read in the word that he covenanted that seed-time
and harvest should not cease. Surveying the midnight skies, I remember
him who, while he calls the stars by their names, also bindeth up the
broken in heart. Who will may neglect the volume of creation, or the
volume of revelation, I shall delight in them both as long as I live.
Let us, then, follow David this morning, for when he wrote our text, he
evidently traveled amongst the works of God, admiring and adoring. Let
us go with him, and see if there be not something to be learned among
the birds and storks, the wild goats and the conies.
I. Our first observation from our text shall be this: FOR EACH PLACE
GOD HAS PREPARED A SUITABLE FORM OF LIFE. For the fir trees, the stork;
for the high hills, the wild goat, or steinbock; for the rocks, the
conies, or rabbits. Almost every part of God's world was meant to be
the abode of some creature or another. On earth, a countless company
wait upon the Lord for meat; and as for the sea, it contains "creeping
things innumerable, both small and great beasts." Among the trees which
shade the brooks, the birds are singing; in the tall sombre pine, the
silent storks are building their nests; on the lofty crags, virgin as
yet to human foot, the chamois leaps from ledge to ledge; and away,
where human voice was never heard, the marmot, the mouse, and the
rabbit (whichever creature the Hebrew may mean) find their
dwelling-place among the rocks. The teaching of this fact is clear. We
shall find that for all parts of the spiritual universe God has
provided suitable forms of divine life. Think out that thought a
moment. Each age has its saints. The first age had its holy men, who
walked with God: and when the golden age had gone, and men everywhere
had polluted themselves, God had his Noah. In after days, when men had
again multiplied upon the face of the earth, and sin abounded, there
was Job in the land of Uz, and Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob dwelling
in tents in the land which had been given to them by promise. On
whatever period of the world's history you choose to place your finger
you may rest assured that as God is there, so is there also some form
of the divine life extant; some of God's twice born creatures are to be
found even in the most barren ages. If you come to a period like that
of Ahab, when a lonely Elijah bitterly complains, "I, only I am left,
and they seek my life to destroy it," you shall hear a still small
voice that saith, "Yet have I reserved unto myself seven thousand men
that have not bowed the knee to Baal." God has still his elect remnant
in the most wicked times to whom he has given a banner, because of the
truth. When the light was almost gone from Israel, and formalism had
eclipsed the sun of Judaism, there were still a Simeon and an Anna
waiting for the coming of the Messiah. Times of fearful persecution,
when to mention the name of Christ was to sentence yourself to death,
have not been devoid of saints, but rather in the hottest times of
oppression God has brought forth heroes equal to the emergency. The
fiercer the trial the stronger the men. The church of God, like the
fabled Salamander, has lived and flourished amid the flames, and has
seemed to feed upon the flames that threatened to devour her. As on the
crags where it appears impossible for life to exist God places wild
goats, so on the high crags of persecution he upholds men whose feet
are like hind's feet, and who glory as they tread upon their high
places. Oppression brings out the heavenly manhood of the saints and
lets the devil see what strength God can put into the weakness of man.
There have been times of heresy too–such as the age of rampant
Arianism, but saints have outlived it. God has provided for such an
emergency brave defenders of the faith. What a man was Athanasius, when
standing upright and alone he said, "I know that Jesus Christ is very
God, and if all the world believe the contrary, I, Athanasius, stand
against the world." Sardis may have a name to live and be dead, but the
Lord saith, "thou hast a few names even in Sardis which have not
defiled their garments, and they shall walk with me in white, for they
are worthy." Is not this an encouraging truth, for as it has been in
the past it is in the present, and it will be in the future. Do not
give way to gloomy forebodings as to the church's future welfare. Whine
not with those who deplore these evil days, and prognosticate
overwhelming ills. We are told that we are passing through a crisis,
but I recollect that it was a crisis twenty years ago, and our
grandsires could tell us of a crisis every year of the last fifty. The
fact is there is no such crisis as is talked of. The crisis is past,
for Christ said, "Now; is the crisis of this world, now shall the
prince of this world be cast out." When Jesus went to Golgotha and bled
and died, the crisis of the church and of the world was over; the
victory of truth and of Christ was secured beyond all hazard. Even if
times should darken and the night should grow thicker and thicker, rest
assured that he who has the conies for the rocks, and goats for the
high hills, and finds for the forests the stork, will find for every
age a suitable form of Christian life that shall bring glory to his
name.
As it has been in every age, so is it in every position in which men
are found. Go into all classes of society, and you shall find that the
Christian religion, if received in truth, is equally well adapted for
all conditions. Here and there upon the throne have been found those
that have feared God, and have gone from a crown on earth to a crown in
heaven. There can be no better qualification for swaying a kingdom than
obedience to the King of kings. Go straight down from the palace to the
poor-house, little enough of comfort there, but the richest consolation
which can be found for the meanest pauper, will be brought by that hand
which was nailed to the tree. He it is that can console the sorrows of
poverty as well as sanctify the risks of wealth. Go ye where ye will
amongst the busy, whose cares buzz around them, and you shall find no
relief for aching heads like a contemplation of the love of Christ: or
go amongst those who have leisure, and spend it in solitude, no
meditation can be so sweet to while away their hours as the meditation
which springs out of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Glory be to God, no
man need say, "My trade does not permit me to be a Christian;" if it be
so, you have no business to follow that trade, for no lawful calling is
without its saint. Up there among the precipices the wild goat finds
safe footing, and so amid dignity and honor saints can survive, and in
the dark rock-rifts of this sin-smitten city, as conies live among the
rocks, so Christian men are useful and happy. Where the believer is
persecuted on every side, he shall not be forsaken, and where, through
the example of the wicked, his heart is grieved, he shall be preserved
like righteous Lot. As God maintains life in every region, so doth he
maintain spiritual life in every position and every calling. Have
comfort in this you who are placed in circumstances unfavourable to
grace.
Again, you shall find spiritual life in every church. I know it is the
notion of the bigot, that all the truly godly people belong to the
denomination which he adorns. Orthodoxy is my doxy; heterodoxy is
anybody else's doxy who does not agree with me. All the good people go
to little Bethel, and nowhere else: they all worship at Zoar, and they
sing out of such-and-such a selection, and as for those who cannot say
Shibholeth, and lay a pretty good stress on the "h," but who pronounce
it "Sibboleth;"let the fords of the Jordan be taken, and let them be
put to death. True, it is not fashionable to roast them alive, but we
will condemn their souls to everlasting perdition, which is the next
best thing, and may not appear to be quite so uncharitable. Many
suppose that because there is grievous error in a church, concerning an
ordinance or a doctrine, therefore no living children of God are there.
Ah, dear brethren, this severe opinion arises from want of knowing
better. A mouse had lived in a box all its life, and one day crawled up
to the edge of it, and looked round on what it could see. Now the box
only stood in a lumber room, but the mouse was surprised at its
vastness, and exclaimed: "How big the world is!" If some bigots would
get out of their box, and only look a little way round them, they would
find the realm of grace to be far wider than they dream. It is true
that these pastures are a most proper place for sheep, but yet upon
yonder hill-tops wild goats are pastured by the Great Shepherd. It is
true that yonder plains covered with verdure are best fitted for
cattle, but the Lord of all has his beasts in the forest, and his
conies among the rocks. You may have to look a long while before you
find these living things, but he sees them when you do not, and it is a
deal more important to a cony for God to see it, than it is for a man
to see it; and so it is an infinitely more weighty matter for a child
of God for his Father to know that he is his child, than for his
brother to know it. If my brother will not believe me to be a
Christian, he cannot help being my brother; he may do what he will in
his unkindness, but if I am one of God's children, and he also is one,
the tie of brotherhood cannot be broken between us. I love to think
that the Lord has his hidden ones–even in churches that have sadly
degenerated from the faith; and, although it is yours and mine to
denounce error unsparingly, and with the iconoclastic hammer to go
through the land and break the idols of all the churches in pieces as
far as God gives us strength, yet there is not a lamb amongst Christ's
flock that we would disdain to feed–there is not the least of all his
people, however mistaken in judgment, whom our soul would not embrace
an ardent love. God, in nature, has placed life in singular spots, and
so has he put spiritual life into strange out-of-the-way places, and
has his own chosen where least we should look for them.
Once more, there are to be found God's people in every city. Some of
you are going away, it may be, to the ends of the earth, and this word
may be comfortable to you. The Lord has an elect people everywhere. The
wild goats are on the rocks, and the conies amongst the stones, and the
storks in the trees. Go you where you will, you shall find that God has
a living people; or if you should be sent to a country where as yet
there are no converted men or women, let not that discourage you, but
rather say, "I am sent with the purpose of finding out God's elect, who
as yet are hidden in sin. I am to be the instrument of finding out the
Lord's own blood-bought but hidden ones here." When thou goest into a
city that is given to idolatry, thou shalt hear it said to thee, "I
have much people in this city;" go, therefore, and labor to find out
the much people. Introduce the gospel, tell of the love of Jesus, and
you shall soon find that your efforts are rewarded by the discovery of
those who shall love your Savior, and delight in the same truth which
now charms your heart. Do not believe that there is a rock without its
wild goat; do not think that there is a fir-forest without its stork;
or that there are to be found trees by the brook without their birds.
Expect to find where God dwells that there are some who are sojourners
with him, as all their fathers were.
I shall leave the first point, repeating the sentence, for each place
there a form of life.
II. Secondly, the text teaches us plainly that EACH CREATURE HAS ITS
APPROPRIATE PLACE. Birds with their nests for the cedars of Lebanon,
storks for the fir trees, wild goats for the high hills, and conies for
the rocks. Each of these creatures looks most beautiful at home. Go
into the Zoological Gardens, and see the poor animals there under
artificial conditions, and you can little guess what they are at home.
A lion in a cage is a very different creature from a lion in the
wilderness. The stork looks wretched in his wire pen, and you would
hardly know him as the same creature if you saw him on the housetops or
on the fir trees. Each creature looks best in its own place. Take that
truth, now, and use it for yourself. Each man has by God a providential
position appointed to him, and the position ordained for each Christian
is that in which he looks best; it is the best for him and he is the
best for that; and if you could change his position, and shift him to
another, he would not be half as happy, nor half as useful, nor half so
much himself. Put the stork on the high hills, put the wild goat on the
fir trees–what monstrosities! Take my dear brother who has been a
working-man this last twenty years, and always been a
spiritually-minded man, and make him Lord Mayor of London, and you
would spoil him altogether. Take a good hearer and set him preaching,
and he would make a sorry appearance. A man out of place is not seen to
advantage, you see the wrong side of him, the gracious side is hidden.
The position in which God has placed me is the best for me. Let me
remember this when I am grumbling and complaining. It may be I have got
past that foolish discontent which is altogether selfish, but perhaps I
repine because I think, if I were in a different position, I could
glorify God more. This species of discontent is very insinuating, but
let us beware of it. It is foolish to cry, "if I were placed in a
different position, I could do so much more for God!" You could not do
so much as you can do now. I am sure the goat would not show the wisdom
of God so well in a fir tree, as he would up on a high hill; and you
would not display the grace of God so well anywhere else as you can do
where you are. Ah, says the young Christian, "I am only an apprentice;
if I were a master man, I think I could then glorify God." Sir, if you
cannot magnify him in your apprenticeship, you will not do so when you
become a journeyman. "Oh, but my shop is so little, my trade brings me
in such a small amount, I can give but little, and I have such few
opportunities of doing good." Be slow to leave your calling till you
have plain indications from providence that you ought to do so, for
many a man in moving from his place has been as a bird that has
wandered from her nest. God knows better than you what is best for you;
bow your soul to his sovereign will. God appoints our position
infinitely better than we could appoint it, even it we could have the
choosing of it.
My beloved friends, it is not only that each form of life has its own
best position as to providence, but it is so as to experience. God has
not made two creatures precisely alike. You shall gather leaves from a
tree, and you shall not find two veined in precisely the same way. In
Christian experience it is the same. Wherever there is living Christian
experience, it is different from everybody else's experience in some
respect. In a family of children each child may be like its father, and
yet each child shall be different from each other child; and amongst
the children of God, though they all have the likeness of Christ in a
measure, yet are they not all exactly the one like the other. You read
the other day the life of John Bunyan, and you said, "Oh, if I had
experience like John Bunyan, then I should know I was a child of God."
This was foolish. The biographies that are published in our magazines
in many cases do some good, but more mischief; for there are Christian
people who begin at once to say, "Have I felt precisely thus? Have I
felt exactly that?–If not, I am lost." Hast thou felt thyself a sinner
and Christ a Savior? Art thou emptied of self and dost thou look to
Christ alone? Well, if no other soul hath trod the same path as thou
hast done, thou art in a right path; and though thy experience may have
eccentricities in it that differ from all others, it is right it should
be so. God has not made the wild goat like the cony, nor has he made
the stork like any other bird, but he has made each to fit the place it
is to occupy, and he makes your experience to be suitable to the
bringing out some point of his glory, which could not be brought out
otherwise. Some are full of rejoicing, others are often depressed; a
few keep the happy medium; many soar aloft, and then dive into the
deeps again; let these varied experiences, as they are all equally
clear phases of the same divine lovingkindness, be accepted, and let
them be rejoiced in.
The same holds good as to individuality of character. Each creature has
its appropriate place, and I believe that each constitution is meant,
under the power of grace, to be suitable for a man's position. I might
wish to be of a different temperament from what I am–I sometimes think
so, but in wiser moments, I would not wish to alter anything in myself
but that which is sinful. Martin Luther might have wished that he had
been as gentle as Melancthon, but then we might have had no
reformation: Melancthon might certainly sometimes have wished that he
had been as energetic as Martin Luther, but then Luther might have
lacked his most tender comforter, if Melancthon had been as rough as
he. Peter might have been improved if he had not been so rough, and
John might possibly have been improved if he had been somewhat more
firm; but after all, when God makes Peter he is best as Peter, and when
he makes John he is best as John, and it is very foolish when Peter
wants to be John, and when John pines to be Peter. Dear brethren, the
practical matter is, be yourselves in your religion. Never attempt to
counterfeit another's virtues, nor try to square your experience
according to another man's feelings, nor endeavor to mould your
character so that you may look as if you were like a certain good man
whom you admire. No, ask the Lord, who made a new man of you, to let
your manhood come out as he meant it, and whichever grace he meant to
be prominent, let it be prominent. If you are meant to play the hero
and rush into the thick of the battle, then let courage be developed;
or if he designed you to lie in the hospital and suffer, then let
patience have its perfect work; but ask the Lord to mould you after his
own mind, that as he finds a stork for a fir tree and a fir tree for a
stork; a hill for a wild goat, and a wild goat for a hill; he will find
a place for you, the man, and find for you, the man, the place that he
has created for you, There his name shall be most glorified, and you
shall be safest. Kick not against the pricks, but take kindly to the
yoke, and serve your day and generation till your Master calls you
home.
III. Now, briefly, a third point. It appears from the text that EVERY
CREATURE THAT GOD HAS MADE IS PROVIDED WITH SHELTER. Birds fly to the
trees, and the stork to the fir, the wild goat to the high hills, and
the cony to the rocks. There is a shelter for every one of these
creatures, great and small. Think a moment, then, if God has made each
creature happy, and given a place of refuge to each creature, then,
depend upon it, he has not left man's soul without a shelter. And here
is an important truth, for every man is certainly in danger, and every
thinking man knows it. My God, dost thou shield and shelter the cony in
the rock, and is there no rock for me to shelter in? Assuredly thou
hast not made man and left him without a refuge; when thou givest to
the rock-rabbit the cleft in which he may hide himself, there must be a
shelter for man. This must certainly be true, because you and I, if we
have observed our inner life, must have felt conscious that nothing
here below can fill an immortal soul. You have prospered in business,
and have enjoyed good health; but for all that, in quiet moments of
reflection, you feel a craving for something not to be found beneath
the sun. Have you not felt yearnings after the Infinite,–hungerings
which bread cannot satisfy; thirstings which a river could not quench?
And are you never conscious–I know I am as a man, I speak not as a
Christian now–of cold shiverings of fear, which make the entire
manhood to tremble? The mind looks forward and considers, "And shall I
live for ever? When my body moulders, shall I continue? Am I a vessel
launched upon the river of existence, and shall I be borne onward to a
shoreless and mysterious sea? And what will be that sea, and will it be
a calm, or tossed with storms?" Or, to change the figure, "I shall
sleep, but in that sleep of death, what dreams may come?" Have you
never felt all that, and said within yourself, "O that there were a
place where I could hide myself, never to tremble more! O that I could
grasp something that would satisfy my insatiable lodgings! O that I
could get my foot upon a rook, and no longer feel that a quicksand is
beneath me! O that I knew of truth sure and indisputable, and possessed
a treasure that would enrich me for ever." Well, then, if you have such
longings as these, surely there must be a provision to meet them. The
stork has an instinct for building a nest of a certain sort; it is too
large a nest to be placed on a bush, she needs a tree; there is a tree
somewhere then, for God never made a stork for a tree but he made also
a tree for the stork. Here is a wild goat: you put it down on a flat
meadow, and it is not happy. Give it the greenest pasture, it looks up
and pines. Rest assured that since those little feet are meant to
traverse rocks and crags, there are rocks and crags that are meant for
those feet to leap upon. A chamois argues an Alps, and the conclusion
is verified by fact. Yonder little cony cannot live anywhere but among
the stones; it delights to conceal itself in the fissures of the rock;
then be assured there are rocks meant for conies. So for me, with my
thirstings, my longings, my pipings, my mysterious instincts–there is
a God somewhere, there is a heaven somewhere, there is an atonement
somewhere, there is a fullness somewhere to meet my emptiness. Man
wants a shelter, there must be a shelter; let us show you what it is.
Beloved, there is a shelter for man from the sense of past guilt. It is
because we are guilty that we are fearful: we have broken our Maker's
law, and therefore we are afraid. But our Maker came from heaven to
earth; Jesus, the Christ of God, came here, and was made man, and bore
that we might never bear his Father's righteous wrath, and whosoever
believeth in Jesus shall find perfect rest in those dear wounds of his.
Since Christ suffered for me, my guilt is gone, my punishment was
endured by my Substitute, therefore do I hear the voice that saith,
"Comfort ye, comfort ye my people! Say unto them, that their warfare is
accomplished; for they have received at the Lord's hand double for all
their sins." And as for future fears, he who believes in Jesus finds a
refuge from them in the Fatherhood of God. He who trusts Christ, says:
"Now I have no fear about the present, nor about the future. Let
catastrophe follow catastrophe, let the world crash, and all the
universe go to ruin; beneath the wings of the Eternal God I must be
safe. All things must work together for my good, for I love God, and
have been called according to his purpose." What a blessed shelter this
is! The little conies in their rock-clefts are perfectly at ease, and
so we, when we enter fully into the truth of our adoption of God, are
filled with unutterable peace. And as for the present, with its cares,
and griefs, and heart-throbs, there is the Holy Ghost abiding in us,
the Comforter, and we fly to him, and receive consolations so rich and
powerful, that this day we feel at peace in the midst of discomforts,
and if perplexed we are not in despair. Brethren, there is a shelter in
the atonement of Christ, in the Fatherhood of God, in the abiding
presence of the Comforter–there is a shelter for man–would God that
all of us had found it!
IV. And now just a moment of your attention will be wanted for the
fourth observation, that FOR EACH CREATURE THE SHELTER IS APPROPRIATE.
The tree for the bird; the fir tree, a particular and special tree, for
the stork; a high hill for the steinbock or ibex, and the rocks for the
hyrax or rabbit. Whatever creature it may be, each shall have his own
suitable shelter. But you will reply to me, is there a shelter, then,
for each individual man? Did you not say that there was only one
shelter for manhood? If I did not say it, I certainly will say it now.
There is only one shelter under heaven or in heaven for any man of
woman born, but yet there is a shelter suitable for each. Christ Jesus
suits all sorts of sinners, all sorts of sufferers. He is a Savior as
suitable for me as if he came to save me and no one else; but he is a
Redeemer as remarkably suitable to every other of his redeemed ones.
Note, then, that there is a refuge in Christ Jesus for those simple
trustful natures that take the gospel at once and believe it. These are
like the little birds that fly to the trees and build their nests and
begin to sing. These are the commonest sort of Christians, but in some
respects they are the best. They hear the gospel, believe it to be
God's word, accept it, and begin to sing. Jesus Christ exactly suits
them, he is a shelter for those chosen birds of the air, whom your
heavenly Father daily feed. But there are others of larger intellect,
who require unusual support ere they can build their nest and be at
ease. These, like the stork, need a special support, and they find it
in the gospel. Since they are more weighty with doubt and perplexity,
they need substantial verities to rest on; these find great fir-tree
doctrines and cedar-like principles in the Bible, and they rest in
them. Many of us this day are resting on the immutable things wherein
it is impossible for God to lie. We rest upon the substitution of
Christ, and repose in the completeness of the atonement. Some get hold
of one great principle and some another in connection with the grace of
God; and God has been pleased to reveal strong, immovable, eternal,
immutable principles in his Word which are suitable for thoughtful and
troubled minds to rest on. Moreover, we have in the church of God
persons of great reasoning powers: these love the craggy paths of
thought, but when they come to Christ and trust in him, though they are
like the wild goat and love the high places, they find in the
Scriptures good ground for them. The doctrine of election, and all the
mysteries of predestination, the deep and wonderful doctrines that are
spoken of by the apostle Paul; where is the man of thought who will not
be at home among these if he loves sublimity? If you have that turn of
mind which delights to deal with the high things of God, which have
been the perplexity of men and angels, you shall find yourself at home,
and what is better, safe with the gospel. If you are in Christ, you
shall have good, solid, safe material for the profoundest meditations.
Perhaps, instead of being bold and daring and thoughtful, you are not
comparable to the wild goat but you are "a very timid trembling little
creature like the cony. If anyone claps his hands, away runs the cony;
he fears always. But there is a shelter for conies; and so in the grace
of God for very timid trembling people, there is a suitable refuge.
Here is a delightful shelter for some of you to run into. "Fear not, I
am with thee; be not dismayed, I am thy God." Here is another–"Him
that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out." Many a poor trembler has
hidden under that condescending word. If I cannot find shelter in one
text, what a blessing it is the Bible is full of promises, and there
are promises in the Bible which seem made for a certain form of mind,
as if the Holy Ghost cast his thoughts and his words into all sorts of
moulds to suit the habits of thought and mind of all whom he would
bless. O trembling soul, though thou art half afraid to say that thou
belongest to Jesus, yet come and rest in him, hide in the rift of his
side, and thou art safe.
V. Now we must close, and we do so with this observation, that EACH
CREATURE USES ITS SHELTER, for the storks have made their nests in the
fir trees, and the wild goats climb the high hills, and the conies hide
among the rocks. I never heard of one of these creatures that neglected
its shelter–they love their natural abodes; but I have heard of men
who have neglected their God, I know women who have forgotten Christ.
We say, "silly sheep." Ah, if the sheep knew all about us, they would
wonder we should call them silly. The cony in danger which does not
seek its rock is foolish; but the soul in danger which does not seek
its Savior is insane–insane, nay, if there can be a madness which is
as much beyond madness, as madness is beyond sanity, then such is the
raving lunacy of a man who neglects the Savior. I have never heard of
any of these creatures that they despise the shelter provided. The
birds are satisfied with the trees, and the stork with the firs, and
even the cony with its rock-hole; but, alas! there are men who despise
Christ. God himself becomes the shelter of sinners, and yet sinners
despise their God. The Son of God opens his side and lays bare his
heart that a soul may come and shelter there in the crimson cleft, and
yet that soul for many a day refuses to accept the shelter. Oh, where
are tears? Who shall give us fit expressions for our sorrow that men
should be such monsters to themselves, and to their God? The ox knoweth
its owner, and the ass its master's crib; but men know not God. The
stork knows its fir tree, the wild goat its crag, and the cony knows
its cleft, but the sinner knows not his Christ. Ah, manhood, what has
befallen thee? What strange wine of Gomorrah hast thou drank which has
thus intoxicated thee!
One other thing, I never heard of a stork that when it met with a fir
tree demurred as to its right to build its nest there, and I never
heard of a cony yet that questioned whether it had a permit to run into
the rock. Why these creatures would soon perish if they were always
doubting and fearing as to whether they had a right to use providential
provisions. The stork says to himself, "ah, here is a fir tree;" he
consults with his mate–"Will this do for the nest in which we may rear
our young?" "Ay" says she, and they gather the materials, and arrange
them. There is never any deliberation, "May we build here?" but they
bring their sticks and make their nest. So the wild goat on the crag
does not say, "Have I a right to be here?" No! he must be somewhere,
and there is a crag which exactly suits him; and he springs upon it.
Yet though these dumb creatures know the provision of their God, the
sinner does not recognize the provisions of his Savior. He quibbles and
questions, "May I?" and "I am afraid it is not for me," and "I think it
cannot be meant for me; and I am afraid it is too good to be true." And
yet nobody ever said to the stork, "Whosoever buildeth on this fir tree
shall never have his nest pulled down." No inspired word has ever said
to the cony, "Whosoever runs into this rock-cleft shall never be driven
out of it;" if it had been so, it would make assurance doubly sure. And
yet here is Christ provided for sinners, just the sort of a Savior
sinners need, and the encouragement is added, "Him that cometh unto me
I will in no wise cast out;" "Whosoever will let him come, and take the
water of life freely." O dear brothers and sisters, do not be standing
out against the generosity of a sin-pardoning God, who bids the sinner
come and welcome. Come, believe in Jesus, and find salvation now. O
that you would come, it is what God has provided for your wants. Come,
take it, for he bids you come. "The Spirit and the bride say come, and
whosoever will let him come and take the water of life freely." To
believe is to trust Jesus, to trust his suffering, to trust his
atonement, and rely upon him alone for salvation. May God enable you to
do it for Christ's sake. Amen.
PORTION OF SCRIPTURE READ BEFORE SERMON–Psalm 104.